


My Way

by Tinytokki



Series: Treasure (The Pirate Chronicles of ATEEZ) [5]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Abandonment, Action/Adventure, Adopted Children, Age of Sail, Alternate Universe - Age of Sail, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Backstory, Best Friends, Childhood Trauma, Crimes & Criminals, Drama, Explosions, Family Drama, Fate & Destiny, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up Together, Guns, Historical Inaccuracy, Mentor/Protégé, Minor Character Death, Mystery, Near Death Experiences, Origin Story, Personal Growth, Pirates, Series, Social Commentary, Suicidal Thoughts, The Royal Navy, Violence, Wilderness Survival, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23538823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinytokki/pseuds/Tinytokki
Summary: Every story has to start somewhere. And ATEEZ's story begins on a beach with a boy. From one unlikely home to the next, each page of Hongjoong's life comes together and the pieces fall into place for the origin of the group built from nothing.
Series: Treasure (The Pirate Chronicles of ATEEZ) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1341256
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	1. The Morning on the Beach

To open his eyes was to face reality. So Hongjoong kept them closed.

Gradually he had become aware of the sand beneath him, the waves lapping at his legs, and the way his head pounded. He knew where he was.

He had practically been raised on this beach. And he knew he hadn’t washed up here on accident. 

Last night was the storm, and the boat splitting, and his parents—

No. 

Hongjoong squeezed his eyes shut harder. To open them was to accept what he already knew. 

They were gone. There was no way they had survived.

Part of Hongjoong was unsure he had even survived, but unless this really was the afterlife with the sun beating down on him and the spray of sea water on his face, that meant he was the sole survivor.

That meant he was alone.

Hongjoong kept his eyes screwed tightly shut and refused to allow tears to build in them. 

This was all just a bad dream, and he’d wake up soon wondering how he had dreamed so vividly. His mother would laugh at him and push some food in his direction. His father would chuckle from where he prepared the nets for another day on the water.

Another normal day. Clear skies and calm waters.

The pounding in Hongjoong’s head was becoming a throbbing hammer crashing down on his senses. He could barely move, and he already didn’t want to. 

Fear gripped him as he caught sight of blood in his peripherals. It had dripped down his face, and his head wound must be worse than he thought. 

Suddenly he was fighting the pull of sleep. If he fell unconscious, he might not wake up again. Part of him resigned to his fate and the other part pushed him to crack an eye open.

A sliver of daylight appeared, and in the distance a pair of boots.

Hongjoong wasn’t sure if he imagined them, but in his waning consciousness they grew closer until there were arms around him, dragging him out of the shallows and up the beach.

There was no telling where he would end up, but Hongjoong couldn’t fight it anymore. He hoped that if he died, he’d at least be able to see his parents. And the rest of him was numb and lifeless.

The dark shadows closed in and he let himself be swept away by sleep.

...

“...washed up, half dead, so you can imagine our surprise...”

“...so glad you arrived when you did, otherwise we’d have had to break the news to him...”

“...horrible, really. Poor lad.”

Sounds filtered in before the light reached him. It was an unfamiliar voice, but it sounded quite close, maybe even in the room with him. 

Hongjoong squirmed in place and hesitantly opened his eyes. He lay in bed in an unfamiliar room, and a deathly cold panic began to cover him.

Birds chirped incessantly into the morning air somewhere just outside the window, and as Hongjoong’s eyes darted around he spotted a door on the far end of the room and a person next to it.

A woman he didn’t recognise. She held a bandage roll and her apron was stained with blood, which immediately made Hongjoong wary of her, but her face was soft and kind, and she turned to face him with such relief in her eyes that he didn’t think to flee when she ran over to his bedside.

He also didn’t think he could flee if he wanted to.

She grasped his hand in hers and turned to call back at the door to whoever had just arrived that she was talking to, “He’s awake!”

The person she had been talking to emerged from the doorway, and this man Hongjoong recognised.

“Uncle Ryeowook?”

His face was very grave as he removed his hat and joined the woman at his bedside. He looked as if a single word could shatter him like glass. Hongjoong was afraid to utter anything at all. 

“How are you feeling?” The woman asked, drawing his attention away for a moment.

“A bit sore,” he admitted, lifting his hand to meet his head. The sting of his wound met him, and the woman pulled his hand away from the bandage wrapped around his head with a tutting noise.

“You slept the whole day away yesterday with that nasty bump,” she told him, smiling softly. “For a few moments, we were afraid we might lose you.”

Hongjoong’s brow furrowed and he looked over the room once more. “Where am I?”

“In our spare room,” the woman explained, tucking the blankets closer around him before he got too antsy and tried to run off. “My husband, Dongmin, is the lighthouse keeper. He found you on the beach and brought you here.”

The beach.

Fragments of the memory returned to him.

The stormy night, splintering wood, crashing waves...

Then morning stillness. The sun beating down and the sand hot beneath him.

Tears gathered in his eyes as he remembered what had happened. If only he had stayed asleep, he wouldn’t have to wake up to this... this dark, cold aftermath. This horrible twisted version of what a normal Friday morning should be.

“Your parents died in the storm,” Uncle Ryeowook said suddenly, as if he had practiced the lines and decided it was better to just rip off the figurative bandage and tell it to him straight.

Hongjoong bowed his head and let the weight of those words rest on him.

It just wasn’t fair.

“Where are they?” He asked, shaking as he tried to sit up. “I want to see them.”

Because if he couldn’t see for himself, he’d never fully believe they had died. 

Uncle Ryeowook sighed and stood again, holding out his arm for Hongjoong to take. Trembling, he rose to follow him outside, to which the lighthouse keeper’s wife fussed behind them the whole way.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong said softly once the carriage pulled up outside. The woman cupped his face in her hands and looked him over one last time.

“Don’t thank me, my boy,” she whispered back. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

Hongjoong wasn’t so sure he could agree, but he climbed in to the carriage and sat still as a stone for the ride, unbidden tears silently falling where his uncle was afraid to look.

...

“Has anyone inquired about their wills?” 

Hongjoong almost dropped his glass at the nonchalance of the question.

He had been ushered by his Uncle to Jangwon Hall, the ancestral home of his father’s side, and the residence of most of his extended relatives. Before any “inspection of the corpses” they were to eat lunch. So far he had only been able to stomach a few bites of his fish and a glass of water.

Mercifully, Aunt Minkyung had allowed him to eat with them in their private wing of the great hall, away from the rest of the family and the prying eyes Hongjoong barely recognised. 

He lowered his glass and regarded her defeatedly. It had only been a few hours since he had awoken from a state of near death and already he was being reminded at every turn that he was alone in the world now. 

Hongjoong hadn’t even had a proper cry yet over the events of the other night and already they were moving on to the next event.

“Ryeowook, it’s an honest question,” his aunt insisted, leaning over to catch her husband’s eye. “If you can’t secure one, who’s to say where he goes?”

There was no need for her to mention Hongjoong by name. He knew that without a will from his parents saying exactly what to do in the event of their unfortunate early departure... the hall would be in chaos and he would be tossed around like a new toy.

“I’ve sent Seyong to their cottage to look around,” Ryeowook finally sighed. “But it’s too soon for all this. Do Dongwon and Donghyun even know about the tragedy yet? I haven’t been back to the hall since—“

“I’d like to see them now.” 

Hongjoong stood from the table and silently begged to be excused. Both Uncle Ryeowook and Aunt Minkyung looked up at him in surprise, like they’d forgotten he was there.

“You should speak to your Grandfather Kiduk before you—"

“Yes you may.”

Ryeowook cut off his wife without ever breaking eye contact with Hongjoong.

“He’s had a hard day,” he heard him explain as he quickly left the room.

Hongjoong had been told they were in one of the back cellars, awaiting inspection from the coroner. So he took a moment outside the door to breathe deeply and remind himself that he wanted this. He wanted to see them before they were packed away and disposed of like rubbish. 

He would never be ready to look at their dead bodies. But he opened the door anyway.

They looked much like they had when he had seen them outside that day. It was wrong to him that their skin could be that colour- so lifeless and warped into some dead creature. It looked as if they had never been alive. Hongjoong wondered briefly if these were just stuffed mannequins made to slightly resemble his parents but he quickly dismissed it after hesitantly reaching out to touch his father's hand. 

No one would be able to convince Hongjoong that the cold, dead people in front of him had not once been alive and happy, and full of laughter and song as well as tears and angry words, but most of all of love. Mother and Father had been real with a full range of emotions and every day they had lived and breathed and they had been _his_. His parents.

He didn't want to assume, and he wasn't a great sorcerer with the gift of foresight like the characters in stories he had read, but he knew himself and he was fairly certain he wouldn't have any semblance of a clear head during the actual funeral ceremony, whenever that took place, so he figured that if he were to "say goodbye" or anything of the sort, he had better do it now. 

Hongjoong opened his mouth to whisper something, but his eyes filled with tears, and he found himself clamping his mouth shut to trap a sob from escaping. Saying goodbye would have to be goodbye forever, and he couldn't do it. It just wasn't fair. Cousin Seyong could say goodbye to Uncle Ryeowook and Aunt Minkyung and it wouldn't be goodbye forever, it would be "goodbye until I see you later.” 

How anyone could be expected to say "goodbye, I'll never see you again" to their own mummy and daddy escaped him. 

Was it really forever? Hongjoong didn't know. There were _so many things_ Hongjoong knew he didn't know, and he didn't know where to start. "I love you," he choked out. "I love you." 

He repeated it aloud until his voice broke. 

He couldn't beg them not to go, because they were already gone. He couldn't ask them what to do, because they wouldn't answer. But he could tell them he loved them, because he knew they loved him back. He _knew_ they loved him back.


	2. Enemies at Jangwon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He ran until he couldn’t anymore, and he ended up there. By the sea.

Hongjoong stayed buried underneath the blankets and hidden away in his temporary bedroom as long as he could until someone came to fetch him.

He didn’t want to face the fact that he was alone now in this strange maze of hallways filled with strangers, and everyone was whispering about him and his parents and no one told them off for it.

The knock at the door was soft, and Hongjoong poked his head out from the covers, squinting his eyes at it in suspicion. Whoever it was didn’t sound like they were here to drag him out of his sanctuary.

“Who’s there?” He finally ventured, cringing at the crack in his voice.

The door cracked open and a familiar head poked through. “Just me, Yujung.”

Cousin Seyong’s wife.

She was a quiet and gentle woman, and she always saved extra fruit from the refreshment trays for him when he visited the manor with his parents, so Hongjoong liked her.

He liked Seyong too, even if he had trouble understanding him. The man was even quieter than Yujung, and always frowning at some troublesome burden of his. But he meant well, and when he smiled at him, Hongjoong knew he meant it.

Yujung opened the door enough for him to see the tray she had brought him.

A wave of relief washed over the boy. He had still expected to be brought to breakfast and paraded around to receive the condolences of every great uncle and third cousin that didn’t even know his name. A quiet meal with only Yujung as company was much more appealing, so he silently accepted the food, ready to scarf it down and make up for picking at his plate yesterday.

“How are you doing?”

Hongjoong let the egg flop back into his bowl and met Yujung’s eyes. He knew she wasn’t talking about his head injury but his reaction to... the accident. Yujung wouldn’t use his answer against him, but it was a difficult question anyway. “I-I don’t really know. I’d much rather be at home instead of bracing myself every time I turn the corner.”

Yujung nodded soberly. She was of humble stock, which Hongjoong knew meant she had to prove herself to the pompous family she had married into. Especially when it came to producing an heir. Bracing herself every time she turned the corner was routine for her. The woman had enough on her mind, and taking care of Hongjoong was not in that job description, so he appreciated it that much more.

“Would being at home make things any better?” She asked carefully, wiping his face for him when a blob of jam got stuck to his cheek. “Reminders of your parents everywhere would probably be distressing, wouldn’t they?”

“So is Aunt Minkyung sobbing into her handkerchief all night.”

Yujung tilted her head in acknowledgment. “I know everything here seems like it’s just for show...” she said carefully. “But we love you. And we loved your parents. So we really do want what’s best.”

Hongjoong’s grip tightened on his glass of water. It was emptied already in an attempt to ease his headache, probably one borne of all his crying last night.

“If we can agree what’s best,” Yujung mumbled to herself as she collected the empty dishes and prepared to bring them to the kitchens.

“What do you mean?” Hongjoong asked suddenly, climbing out from under the blankets to stop her before she left.

Yujung sighed and turned to face him, tray perched on her hip. “There’s a meeting in Ryeowook’s study later to discuss everything.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t anyone tell m—“

“It’s not about what’s happening to you. For now, you stay here with Ryeowook and Minkyung. They’re discussing your house and the funeral first.”

Hongjoong blinked at the floor in confusion until he realised— it was a money issue. They probably wanted to sell it to afford a funeral.

As he looked back up at Yujung, paralysed, his eyes shone with pleas. “Don’t let them sell it, they can’t sell it, Yujung. It doesn’t belong to them.”

Yujung bit her lip and glanced away. This situation was much bigger than Hongjoong, but his voice couldn’t go unheard when it concerned him this much. There was no way she would allow that, Hongjoong was sure of it.

“I’ll talk to Seyong,” she finally said. “He may be able to get through.”

With that she was gone, although Hongjoong left only a moment or two after. He needed a spot to hide in so that he could hear the proceedings.

Eventually he decided on the hallway between the parlour and the servants’ staircase and crouched there patiently through the sounds of his relatives settling in.

Hongjoong almost fell asleep again as they discussed financials and budget at length, but his attention was captured again when the topic of his house came up.

Hongjoong’s father Hohyun had been the sixth and youngest child of Grandfather Kiduk, current master of Jangwon despite his failing health. Uncle Ryeowook was the eldest and acted as master of the household, perhaps preemptively, and ever since he had taken up that mantle the fun and softhearted Uncle that Hongjoong remembered had been replaced by this man. A cold, distant relative weighed down by the pressure of managing the largest estate in the northeast and aristocratic center of the coastline.

Comparatively as youngest son of the youngest son, Hongjoong was at the bottom of the totem pole. Not that he and his parents had ever cared. Their small cottage and fishing business were their pride and joy, but now it seemed that humble reality was being dashed to pieces in the argument Hongjoong was currently listening in on.

“There are plenty of other fish stalls, Ryeowook, selling the place isn’t going to bring down the economy,” Aunt Ajung sighed in exasperation. She was the second oldest of Grandfather Kiduk and had prematurely transformed into an old maid. Snobby, sarcastic, and snide with a special contempt for young children. In this situation, or probably any situation, she was not Hongjoong’s ally.

“I can’t imagine pawning off dear Hohyun’s beloved home like that,” another voice interjected. Aunt Sohee, the third child and complete opposite of Ajung. Chattery, exuberant, and married with a teenage son. The sisters were often at war with each other, and even the death of their youngest brother wasn’t enough to call a truce. “I mean, after all that work he put in. It should be repurposed as a Jangwon property, maybe an extra stable or guest house or something.”

Perhaps she wasn’t Hongjoong’s ally either. If only someone would suggest keeping his house  _ and _ letting him stay there, maybe his heartbeat would slow down. It was going so fast he was afraid it might give him away.

“It’s not even a decision we need to make now without everyone present,” Sohee’s husband Raewon pointed out. Surely he was referring to Hongjoong— and still he tried not to get his hopes up. “The twins aren’t here.”

And just like that, his hopes came crashing down again.

Donghyun and Dongwon. Twin bachelors, and Kiduk’s fourth and fifth children respectively. They were like one person in two bodies, always focused on one-upping each other and proving to be the better of the two. But they were lazy and arrogant, and Hongjoong knew he’d get no help from them either. Never mind the fact that they’d gone off doing who knows what and hadn’t been back to even hear news of the tragedy.

But no, the twins weren’t here, and without them the family couldn’t possibly discuss the fate of a house that never belonged to any of them.

Listening to all this was frustrating and Hongjoong was tempted to give up and leave. But Cousin Seyong hadn’t spoken yet, and if Yujung had kept her word, there was a chance he would stand up for Hongjoong’s wishes.

He clasped his hands in front of him, pressing them to his lips and letting his eyes fall shut as he begged with all his might for Seyong to speak up.

“Seyong, you’ve been quiet as usual,” Aunt Ajung noticed, making Hongjoong perk up with anticipation. “Ryeowook sent you to the place, did you find anything?”

“Nothing resembling a will,” Seyong’s quiet voice replied. There was a small sound like he was shifting around in his seat. “But...”

_Please say you think I should stay there,_ Hongjoong repeated to himself.  _ Please _ .

“But they were both young. I’m sure they never expected to die so soon,” he finally said.

Hongjoong resisted the urge to slam his head into the door. So much talking in circles when his fate was up in the air.

“Well,” Aunt Minkyung laughed mirthlessly. “If they weren’t expecting to die young, they shouldn’t have gone out recklessly in a storm.”

That was it.

Hongjoong tore the door open and barged in, ignoring the shocked gasps and marching into full view. 

“Stop talking about them like that!” He yelled, angry tears winding their way down his cheeks.

His aunts and uncles just looked appalled, but Yujung was already on her feet to try and calm him.

“Hongjoong—“

“You’re no better!” He accused, scrubbing at his face. “Why are you letting them disrespect my parents? I trusted you!”

With that he stormed out the door and through the hallways, ignoring the voices that echoed behind him until he was outside, salty air familiar on his face, and then he kept running.

He ran until he couldn’t anymore, and he ended up there. By the sea.

The wind stole the tears from his cheeks and the sobs from his lungs. Even as his legs gave out and he fell on the sand, he cursed the waves for taking everything from him and still drawing him back.

He always came back to the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another sombre update from me :) Don’t worry, a main series chapter will be out this weekend. Until then, let me know what you thought of this and have a nice day <3


	3. The Tidal Stranger

Somewhere between the wind and the waves, the sound of a voice reached Hongjoong in his distress.

“Yes, you. What are you doing out here?”

Finally, he spotted him. The man addressing him stood atop a rock twice his size that jutted out from the beach. His hair was dark and long, nearly concealing a pair of eyes that were already too clouded to understand them. He only looked ten or so years older than Hongjoong but his manner and bearings made him seem experienced in the world.

Hongjoong wondered how long he’d been sitting there.

He spoke again while Hongjoong was distracted. “Tide’s coming in. And you should be home, not wandering the beach on your own.”

“I know when the tides are,” Hongjoong snapped, getting to his feet and hoping his confidence would mask the shaking of his voice. Leftovers from his breakdown. “I grew up here.

The man suddenly tilted his head and shifted in his position. It was like he had suddenly recognised Hongjoong, though he could be sure they had never met.

“Very well,” a smile grew on the stranger’s face and Hongjoong felt like he was being teased. “I’m just a newcomer here. I came with the tide and I’ll be gone with the next one, so don’t let me boss you around.”

Hongjoong crossed his arms and plopped back down in the sand. It still felt like he was being bossed around, and this stranger knew it.

“I’ll leave you to your...” the man paused in his climb as he descended the rock and raised his eyebrows in question at the boy. “What was it you were doing? Running away? You didn’t even bring a boat. That’s poor planning, I’d say.”

“I wasn’t running away,” Hongjoong spluttered. “At least, I wasn’t planning to.”

“So you aren’t running away, and you aren’t going home,” the man hummed, his voice softening into something Hongjoong couldn’t place. “Where are you going, then? You know, everyone is going somewhere.”

Hongjoong wrapped his arms around himself and looked at the tossing breakers just past the rocks ahead of him. It was his parents’ graveyard, there was no way he would return there. “I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t think I’m headed anywhere.”

The stranger had reached the bottom of the rock, and he waded through knee-high water until he was standing by Hongjoong’s side. A quick survey of the sky, and he was murmuring in warning.

“Another storm is on its way.”

“Another?” Hongjoong repeated, looking at the man suspiciously. That didn’t quite add up. “You came with the tide, didn’t you? How could you have known there was a storm the other day to begin with?”

“You _are_ good,” the man smiled. “It’s true, you caught me. I’ve been here since the typhoon.”

“Where are _you_ going, then?” Hongjoong didn’t even know why he was asking. What did he care? 

“That’s none of your business,” the stranger laughed. He looked for a moment like he wanted to tell him, but shook his head and gazed back out at the ocean. “I’m sure your parents warned you about strangers.”

They did.

Hongjoong lowered his head sadly. He had actually gone a full five minutes without thinking about them, and look where that had gotten him. 

“They’re dead, aren’t they,” the stranger was saying. But Hongjoong barely registered the remark because his eyes were on the man’s boots. He recognised those boots. 

The man paused awkwardly and then said something about bidding farewell and getting back to work but the words went completely over Hongjoong’s head. 

_Where have I seen those boots before?_

He racked his brain even as he watched them walk away, and it was only once they had long marched out of sight down the curve of the shoreline that Hongjoong remembered.

The morning after the storm. The person who dragged him out of the waves. Who saved his life.

But it was too late to run after the stranger, who had already disappeared around the bend. 

Hongjoong turned the other way to face the lighthouse and headed towards it. All along he had thought the lighthouse keeper had saved him from the shallows and taken him straight to his home, where he had woken up. But it was that stranger... that stranger saved him.

He knocked on the door and asked the man, Dongmin, where exactly he had found him unconscious.

“Just there,” the man answered, indicating the stretch of sand that banked up towards the lighthouse itself. “You were deathly still and the wound on your head... well, we weren’t sure you would make it but here you are!”

The stranger had dragged him up there and left him for Dongmin to find. 

So here he was. 

Hongjoong thanked the man and made his way back down to the beach. 

He had about six hours before the tide went back out, which meant six hours to find the stranger again.

Why he wanted to find him, Hongjoong had no idea. 

To thank him for saving his life? To curse him for making it a torment?

Hongjoong didn’t know. And he only got a mile down the beach before the skies opened and dumped rain on him.

Yujung would be worried. She had been silent during the meeting, but Hongjoong knew she meant well. She was just too timid to actually do anything about it.

Now that there was no hope of finding the stranger, Hongjoong faced a dilemma. Head home for shelter from the storm, or stay here for shelter from his family. Neither option appealed very strongly, and so Hongjoong took another path.

The path to his old cottage. The one his uncles and aunts were so desperate to pawn off for riches. If he had heard correctly, it would be on the market tomorrow. This was his last chance to sleep there.

Hongjoong expected the rush of emotions when he cracked open the door and stepped inside, but he didn’t expect it to be strong enough to bring him to his knees.

Every sentimental trinket he found was a new wave of grief crashing down. Years, an entire childhood, had accumulated here in the form of objects, furnishings, and papers and Hongjoong didn’t know how he was supposed to let it go.

The family would be in an uproar if he took Mother’s jewellery or Father’s clothes, so he was stuck crying over doilies and dolls and eating the food that was left in kitchen cabinets, waiting for his parents’ return like everything else in the house.

No other window plants would be as fresh and lovely as these. No other rug as full of memories. No other bed as warm and familiar as his parents’.

That was where he lay while rain beat down on the weathered roof tiles and imagined them on either side of him, soothing him to sleep with their calm and loving voices. 

Hongjoong could lay there for the rest of his life and be satisfied. 

When he woke there would be consequences, but his dreams were spent in greener pastures, and for that much he could be thankful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little heavy handed there, huh? I have nothing to say for myself but if somehow you enjoyed, leave the likes and the comments and all that and have a nice day (recovering from this)!


	4. Best Case Scenario

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were worried about him, he could see that, but things were off to such a clumsy start, Hongjoong didn’t put much on their ability to control him. Not when he already had a destination in mind.

There was no point in trying to sneak back into the Hall.

Hongjoong had left the familiar comfort of his former home behind, scared out of reading his mother’s diary by a group of strangers who had been arriving to cart away their belongings, auctioning them off to who knows where.

It was all he needed to know his relatives had gone through with selling the cottage.

So he hid the book in the floorboards, walking back to Jangwon on tired feet, nowhere else to go, and took the verbal beating he knew to expect for running off like he had.

Except it wasn’t just Aunt Minkyung. It was Aunt Ajung, and Aunt Sohee, and even Sohee’s son Myungsoo and his fiancée Bora.

Hongjoong sighed and closed his eyes in exasperation, slowing to a stop in front of them.

It looked like they would be causing a scene in the entryway. One Hongjoong should’ve expected.

“Where have you been all night?” Minkyung snapped. Hongjoong didn’t even get a chance to answer.

“And the night before the funeral, no less!” Aunt Ajung muttered, clearly more upset about the inconvenience than anything else.

“Do you have any idea how worried we were? We thought we’d have to send a search party—” Sohee began but was interrupted by Aunt Minkyung again.

“You could’ve died, do you realise that?”

“Well, sorry to disappoint,” Hongjoong finally shot back, trying to get around the imposing gaggle of relations.

Scandalised gasps went up all around him but he kept walking.

The pair of gardeners tending the front lawn were wide-eyed and whispering to each other.

Suddenly someone yanked on Hongjoong’s arm, pulling him back. He was confronted with Aunt Minkyung’s incredibly red face, arm raised as if to deliver a slap.

“How dare you show such disrespect, you ungrateful—”

“Let me through!” Cousin Seyong’s voice broke through the chaos as he pushed past the crowd and pulled Hongjoong out of his mother’s firm grip. “No time, he needs to get ready.”

Confused but grateful to be whisked away from the confrontation, Hongjoong followed Seyong into the private wing occupied by the master of the hall and his immediate family, where Hongjoong had spent the night previously.

Yujung was there waiting and shushed Hongjoong before he could ask anything, scanning him up and down.

“Look at you, you’re filthy.”

He had nothing to say on the matter, so he let himself be scrubbed, washed, rinsed, and dressed. He had to admit as he stood in his best clothes and let Yujung wrangle his hair into something presentable, that it felt kind of nice. Something he had missed.

“You’re taking care of me.”

It sounded like a statement but underneath the emotionless exterior it was a question.

“Well, nothing’s decided. Not until this evening.”

They still had a funeral to get through.

Hongjoong nodded quickly and steeled himself. There was no guarantee of anything anymore. He knew that the moment the storm split their boat in two.

...

The sky was grey. No sunshine, and no rain. Just another average overcast day.

Everyone was assembled behind Jangwon on a hill facing east, the highest point in the town.

_ They _ were there, bathed in incense and dressed in grave clothes. They had already been bound in shrouds and waited to be lowered into the ground, with a final nail driven into the coffin lid symbolising the finality of their departure from this world. Those bodies weren’t Hongjoong’s parents anymore.

Uncle Ryeowook was reading off a speech about them, their achievements and contributions to Panhang, their dedication to their family and community, and most of all their tragic reminder to be cautious on the sea.

He said nothing about their kindness or their sense of humour. He wouldn’t remember them by their patience as teachers or their example of bravery. He didn’t know those things about them.

One by one, visitors came up and bowed twice to pay their respects. Hongjoong recognised nearly everyone, and tried not to make eye contact with his former friends and classmates.

His old neighbour Bosung placed a hand on his shoulder silently but left without saying anything else. Hongjoong was glad for it- the fewer awkward conversations, the better. Who knew what would become of those relationships, cut off and fizzled into nothingness once he became prisoner at his family’s behest.

Tuning out the loud wails of the women and turning away from the solemn faces of the men, Hongjoong’s eyes went to the ocean, imagining his parents waiting for him to hurry up and get on the boat so they could set sail and start their day.

When the guests dispersed to drink and stuff their faces with ceremonial food, Hongjoong lingered to bow one last time.

It was deep and long and full of emotions and apologies. The tears he kept at bay.

As he stood, he pictured them casting off without him, leaving him behind to explore fairer shores.

But it was alright, he could be patient.

He’d join them when it was time.

He wasn’t overwhelmed with sadness anymore; he was quietly but fiercely angry.

Nothing Mother and Father needed to know about.

...

“I know about the gossip.”

An embarrassed Yujung turned from where she had been scolding a whispering servant and faced Hongjoong.

He kept talking, mindlessly slicing into pieces of fruit but neglecting to eat them.

“They throw the word orphan around, they say I’ll never inherit anything. That I’m no better than a servant in my own home.”

“It doesn’t matter what they say,” Yujung insisted, shooing away the servants before they could do anymore harm and sitting down across from him, grabbing his arm with conviction.

The action shocked him into slicing himself, flinching at the small trickle of blood coming from his hand. The wound barely registered as Yujung hurriedly snatched up a handkerchief and pressed it to the cut. Hongjoong simply shook his head and went on, “But it’s true. In the best case scenario, I’ll be granted some form of independence until I can escape and take care of myself.”

“Don’t speak like that,” Yujung scolded quietly, with a lot less vigour than anyone else in the Hall would’ve. “We want what’s best for you.”

“Maybe  you want what’s best for me,” Hongjoong chuckled dryly. “No one else in this house does.”

He had been snacking on leftover fruit from the funeral all afternoon while his aunts and uncles entertained their guests and then shut the study door again so they could discuss his future living arrangements.

Eventually even Yujung had to leave and give them her opinion. Hongjoong didn’t have much hope in her ability to better his situation, not after what happened last time.

One of the servants came and called him to the room at half past six.

Now was the part when they stopped talking about him behind his back and invited him to the face to face conversation.

Uncle Ryeowook beckoned him forward around the side of the desk and so he went, ignoring the eyes he could feel on him.

“Assuming you don’t want to be sent to an orphanage, we’ve come up with a solution, Hongjoong.”

He said it like he should be grateful for such merciful intervention.

“We think you’ll like it,” Aunt Minkyung added from behind her husband. “Very much in fact.”

Aunt Ajung got straight to the point, reading from the legal document the assembled family members had drafted up. “Technically, you’ll be in the custody of the master of the hall, that’s Ryeowook, but Seyong and Yujung will be your primary caretakers until they have children of their own, as Ryeowook and Minkyung have little time and patience for another child.”

Well, that was a relief.

“Your education will continue under the family tutor, but at your age we’ll be expecting you to work for your keep. In the fields, or the mines, or the kitchens— wherever you’re needed. It will depend on the day.”

It was bare minimum provision, with the slight advantage that he’d be in the care of the least abhorrent of his relatives, but bare minimum nonetheless.

Aunt Minkyung smiled a tight smile at him like she was confused why he wasn’t on his knees thanking them. “It’ll be useful to have someone so flexible helping to run Jangwon!” She explained cheerfully.

Hongjoong knew what they were playing at.

He was old enough to take on responsibility but young enough not to be granted freedom.

He was well bred enough to be taught social graces but low enough on the ladder to work for free.

So he simply bowed to each of his superiors, extra deeply to Seyong and Yujung, and padded upstairs silently like the outcast he was.

Minutes or hours later- he couldn’t be sure- his new guardians came to find him sitting by the window watching the sun shrink behind the clouds.

The mysterious stranger’s prediction had been right. The second storm was arriving after all.

Cousin Seyong cleared his throat uncomfortably and tried to offer some condolence. “I’m sorry, it’s the best we could do...”

“But I did push for them to give you more time,” Yujung broke in. “Time to, you know, grieve and... and integrate with the routine here... all of that.”

Hongjoong turned to face them and forced a smile. “Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. The meeting could’ve turned out a lot worse. “Is there any way I’ll be allowed out on my own from now on?”

The couple glanced at each other indecisively. They’d never been parents, they hadn’t the first clue how to proceed with respects to a boy already approaching his teens.

“Well, you’ve run away once, I wouldn’t put it past you to do so again,” Seyong sighed honestly. “Perhaps as long as you stay away from the cliffside and the beach...”

“Provided you tell us when and where,” Yujung amended quickly. “And you’re always encouraged to bring someone with you.”

“Not that you’ll have much time for wandering anyway,” Cousin Seyong pointed out, pulling the curtains shut, blocking Hongjoong’s view of the coast, and preparing to leave the room. “You’ll be busy with lessons and work and such.”

Keeping him occupied so he couldn’t cause trouble. That was the plan.

Hongjoong nodded his acceptance of the conditions and bade both of them goodnight.

They were worried about him, he could see that, but things were off to such a clumsy start, Hongjoong didn’t put much on their ability to control him.

Not when he already had a destination in mind.

For most of the day he’d sat alone while chaos ensued around him. There would be a small window of time for him to get away unseen but he knew the road well.

As he lay awake, he thought of the family moving into his cottage tomorrow morning. They would have no idea what it had once been like. Maybe they would even move the furniture or change the decorations.

It wouldn’t hurt to simply observe the proceedings from a safe distance, he decided. 

Rain was falling on the windows, and his pillow had grown wet, but only from his own tears.

His aunts always told him not to cry, but they weren’t around to admonish him.

For once, he was happy to be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another sombre update from me :,) Forgive me if the chapters are sparser because of school. Don’t forget to kudos and comment!! <3


	5. Social Graces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playing with Mingi was an escape. But it was an escape Hongjoong rarely managed to indulge in thanks to the oppressive schedule of Jangwon Hall.

It became clear very quickly that the problem was not Hongjoong’s stealth skill.

For some reason, he didn’t care to disguise himself from the Song family’s younger son. He seemed to be around his age, and selfishly Hongjoong crafted this fantasy, wishing they could be brothers, that he could become part of this new family and fit right back in to his old home, escaping the Hall and all its pressures.

And then one day the boy yelled at him and told him to leave.

Hongjoong’s objective shifted from investigating the imposters to rescuing Mother’s diary once he’d gone home and had a good cry.

If the boy hated him that much, he wouldn’t have to see him again. As soon as Hongjoong retrieved the book, he’d be out of the newcomer’s hair.

It had been too much to hope for anyway.

It was technically Aunt Sohee’s fault that Hongjoong was caught in his old bedroom with the diary, mid-escape. She had forced him to practice for even longer than usual during the daily piano lesson, and he hadn’t been able to make off with the book before the boy returned from school.

During the chase that ensued, Hongjoong’s mind went blank. Again, he was conflicted about the stranger. Why was he chasing him all the way back into town? Why did he care enough to read the diary and try to reconcile things?

Hesitantly and against his better judgment, Hongjoong allowed the boy Mingi to befriend him while they sat and looked out at the ocean. There was a simple genuineness in the way he expressed his concern that didn’t annoy Hongjoong the way his cousins did.

He seemed a little absorbed in his own thoughts, but at least he was unattached to this town and all the memories it trapped. He wouldn’t try to talk about Hongjoong’s parents or plan his future for him.

Spending time with Mingi after that first real conversation was always a chance to live in the moment. It was just them, the cliffs, and the beach. They could talk about whatever they wanted, they could  _ be _ whatever they wanted.

It was more uncomfortable when Bosung joined them, neither certain how to proceed with their frayed friendship, but Mingi sensed it and stopped arranging picnics for three.

Playing with Mingi was an escape.

But it was an escape Hongjoong rarely managed to indulge in thanks to the oppressive schedule of Jangwon Hall.

Mining, farming, even teaching the younger boys all while acting the part of a gentleman but never being treated as one behind closed doors.

Hongjoong was actually quite good at it, smiling graciously and showcasing all his charming talents, but it wasn’t anything he particularly enjoyed. His eyes were completely empty, and no one was the wiser.

Day after day, week after week, he cycled between his different selves. He blinked and somehow it was the day before his thirteenth birthday. He’d gone months without his parents, and he’d practically become a different person.

The Jangwon staff didn’t go easy on him. They saw their opportunity and took advantage of his situation, so instead of spending time with Mingi and enjoying the precious moments when he could just be himself, Hongjoong was fulfilling a litany of tasks, the last of which being a trip to the market, shopping for the cook.

The Song family’s stall used to be the fish stall where Hongjoong’s parents sold their catches, but they didn’t know about him and Hongjoong preferred to keep it that way, so he skipped over them quietly and went to a neighbouring food vendor to purchase what he needed.

At least the cook had given him money to buy the ingredients.

“Ah, the youngest son of the youngest son doing what he can to live up to his family name,” the shop owner chuckled on seeing him. “Working odd jobs for spare change?”

“No one pays me for my labour,” Hongjoong snorted as he added a bag of flour to his basket. “It seems it is my duty nonetheless.”

Hongjoong’s feelings toward his relatives were well known in Panhang. It seemed he was the gossip of the town, even after the onset of autumn.

“Well,” the man shrugged as he received and counted the money. “The Navy is offering quite the generous ransom for certain pirates nowadays. You could set yourself up nicely.”

He moved to pass out a flyer with the pirate’s drawing on it, but Hongjoong waved it away. “If mining was hard work, pirate-hunting must be suicide.”

“Very well then,” the owner laughed, handing him his change instead. “Have a relaxing evening.”

Hongjoong dropped his smile the moment he was out of the man’s sight. He still had to meet Cousin Seyong at the stables.

Field inspection was far from relaxing, but it was the final event on the agenda and at the very least Hongjoong could tune everything out and gaze across the land, getting lost in his head among the golden ginkgo trees and following flocks of birds as they journeyed south in pursuit of the warmer breezes.

“Hongjoong? What do you make of the chestnut harvest?”

Seyong was holding out a handful of chestnuts to him in a feeble attempt to include him in the conversation, so Hongjoong took them and popped one into his mouth.

Once he’d given the farmer an approving smile, the adults moved on to the farmhouse to deal with a pay dispute and Hongjoong dropped the rest of the nuts into the bucket.

He wasn’t hungry enough to scavenge someone else’s food today.

“We have a surprise for you tomorrow,” Cousin Seyong told him on the ride back home. Hongjoong looked up from where he played with a few strands of hay in the back of the cart and tried to read his guardian’s face.

“A birthday surprise?”

Seyong nodded and Hongjoong wondered if he should let himself feel excited. It was quite unexpected that any of his relatives at Jangwon would even remember his birthday, much less prepare a gift for the occasion.

“We’ll have a nice dinner with the family—” Regretfully, Hongjoong knew he meant the  _ whole _ family. “— and we’ll give it to you before cake and tea. It’ll be quite the celebration.”

He was grinning back at him deviously, and Hongjoong was inclined to trust that rare smile, so he nodded and moved up to the front bench to sit next to his cousin.

They watched the sun set ahead of them and urged on the pony to bring them home, while Hongjoong rested his head on Seyong’s shoulder. It was nice to feel appreciated once in awhile.

Mercifully, he was not required to cook his own birthday food and so Hongjoong carved out some time the next day just before supper and went to the beach, hoping to see Mingi. And indeed, the younger boy came and went, excited and nervous about the new girl at school, begging Hongjoong to teach him to sail.

When their time ran out, Hongjoong left with a gloomy cloud over him, but why should he expect anything else?

It wasn’t as if he’d told Mingi it was his birthday.

While all twenty currently present family members ate the dinner feast and chatted clamorously, Hongjoong pulled out his Mother’s diary and managed to skim the final pages before being tapped on the shoulder by Aunt Ajung and reprimanded for it.

“When you are in company, you must not begin reading to yourself. Don’t you remember your etiquette?” He winced and slipped the book back down into his lap before it was confiscated, and made a mental note to hide it somewhere in case any of his aunts suddenly decided to clean out his things.

“And what else?” She hissed as he began to slouch in his chair petulantly.

“Tidiness in dress and habits,” he sighed. So he had no choice but to sit through everyone else’s conversations for the rest of the hour.

They may be celebrating  _ for _ him but they certainly weren’t celebrating  _ with _ him.

Finally, Uncle Ryeowook tapped his spoon against his glass and gave Cousin Seyong the floor.

Hongjoong held his breath.

“It is with great excitement that Yujung and I can announce...” He cleared this throat dramatically and winked in Hongjoong’s direction. “We’re expecting a child!”

The table erupted in congratulations but Hongjoong was frozen to his chair.

After so much pressure to produce an heir, Yujung had finally given in. Hongjoong couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“Surprise!” Seyong tried again, tilting his head in confusion when Hongjoong didn’t seem to react favourably. “You’re getting a new cousin!”

“But...”

But he didn’t  _ want _ another cousin. What would become of him now?

“Aw, look at him!” Aunt Sohee cooed, pinching his cheek even as he tried to flinch away. “He’s speechless!”

Seyong took it as his cue to say more about the whole ordeal and rested a gentle hand on the shoulder of his wife.

“Yujung dreamed the child was a boy, so we hope you’ll be like brothers to each other. And if her dream turns out to be false, I’m sure you’ll love your new sister nonetheless.”

The rest of the table laughed at his meagre jest and, having never seen Cousin Seyong this happy, Hongjoong was tempted to smile and give them what they clearly wanted— his approval— but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He already had Mingi, and Mingi was all he needed now.

Hongjoong hung his head for shame.

He would never have the guts to tell Mingi he was his whole world.

“Just the news we needed to ease the pain of poor Hohyun and Eunha’s passing,” Aunt Minkyung insisted and Hongjoong shut his ears.

He couldn’t listen to them talk about his parents again. He couldn’t sit here amidst all this sickening ostentation while every word was a poisoned arrow shot into his future before it could go anywhere.

Yujung could see his panic beginning. “Shall we retire for tea and cake?”

Like a blur, the festivities moved to the main parlour and Hongjoong thought he was off the hook for a moment but Aunt Sohee urged him to show off the new piece he was learning and to say no would be disrespectful.

For once, the room fell silent with everyone’s attention on him.

It was so quiet, he could easily pretend he was the only one there, so he let the world fade away and played the first tune that came to him on the piano. There was no need to showcase a practiced song when he could floor them with just one.

He effortlessly bent the keys to his will, and with the flowing cadence of the song, he knew he had every listener enraptured, trapped in the beautiful melody he was crafting.

It echoed around him when the song decrescendoed to a stop. And then the room erupted into awed clapping that grated on his ears.

A tear dripped onto the piano. Hongjoong scrubbed at it with his sleeve, several keys playing underneath his fist, a dissonant cord echoing through the parlour.

Aunt Sohee guided him away and into a chair while cake was served, taking him by the shoulders and embracing him excitedly.

“You must play it at the midwinter ball, Hongjoong, you  _ must _ . The world will fall in love with you.”

And even though he’d rather not, he nodded along and finished his food, grateful to be excused early.

His mind was a cacophonous mess full of thoughts that rang in his ears.

Seyong and Yujung.

The stipulation was that they were to be his primary caretakers until they had children of their own.

_ Until . _

And Hongjoong simply didn’t believe there was room for both of them. It was hard enough now, being passed off to someone else would be starting the process all over again.

He buried himself in his blankets and cried until the tears ran out and Yujung had come in to rub his back and mutter soothing words.

“I don’t want there to be a baby,” Hongjoong cried, nudging her away. “You said you’d love me and take care of me, and now I’ll have to go back to Uncle Ryeowook and Aunt Minkyung. Is it because I run off to the beach sometimes? Is that why you’re doing this to me?”

Yujung’s eyes lowered to the mug she clutched and she relinquished it to the bedside table. Other than a clock and his mother’s diary, it was empty. So was much of his room. It still didn’t really feel like his.

“You didn’t finish your tea.”

Hongjoong didn’t take the mug. He didn’t even meet her eyes. They were probably guilty and sad and he didn’t feel bad for her. He _didn’t_.

He wanted to be selfish just this once.

“You know we never wanted to replace your parents,” she finally explained softly. “And our child won’t replace you or your brother.”

Her eyes flitted over to Mother’s diary as she said it. She was referring to Hyunseok, who she must’ve known before he died.

But Hongjoong didn’t know him as anything other than a phantom that haunted his mother, and he didn’t know this new baby at all.

He felt caught in between them, invisible and unwanted and incapable of living up to either of them.

Why did he even want to? He had the beach, he had Mingi...

“Your mother loved you,” Yujung sighed, hesitantly running fingers through his hair as soon as he let her. “I know how much she loved you, we were good friends. I love you too, Hongjoong. And that will never change. I know it’s not what you hoped for, but this baby is not a replacement. Only an addition.”

Her words resounded through Hongjoong’s head with every pound of the pickaxe on stone the next day in the mines.

His mother loved him. She had been terrified for him, anxious he would one day leave her like Hyunseok had. And she and Father had drowned instead, so her horrible fear hadn’t come true.

Needing some air, Hongjoong checked that no one was looking and dropped his pickaxe.

There was a secret path he had made over his many mining days in the last few months, and when no one was looking Hongjoong rolled the rock out of the way and entered the cave.

It faced the sea, and it was so far south that none of the other children played in it. It was the perfect place to hide Mother’s diary, where his aunts couldn’t steal it and he wouldn’t be tempted to dwell on it.

And while he wandered through the next couple of weeks, it stayed at the back of his mind. He would check on it from time to time, and one day he decided to write his own entry in it, when playing the piano wasn’t enough to channel his emotions.

As he returned the book to its place that afternoon, something caught his eye. It looked like a gun hidden behind another rock a few feet away and Hongjoong couldn’t help but pick it up and inspect it.

The weapon was heavy but sleek and exciting, and even though he had no idea what he was doing, something sparked inside as he pretended to shoot the wall with it.

A startled yell came from the mouth of the cave and Hongjoong turned to see the stranger from before staring at him. He waved the gun in greeting.

“This yours?”

“Um— no,” the man scoffed. “But I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”

“Why do you have a gun?” Hongjoong stood and began moving closer. It had been hidden here in the cave, clearly it belonged to the man.

“Why are  _ you _ touching it?” The stranger shot back.

“Why are you hiding in a cave?” Hongjoong kept pushing, ignoring the man’s questions.

“Why did  _ you _ come looking?”

“I didn’t come looking,” Hongjoong finally answered, rolling his eyes. “I told you, I grew up on this beach.” 

There was a brief pause before Hongjoong sighed and motioned to the diary with the hand holding the gun. “I hid something here a few weeks ago.”

“Stop—  _ stop _ swinging that around, you’ll hurt yourself!”

“You sound like my Aunt Minkyung,” Hongjoong spat.

“I take it that’s not a good thing,” the man muttered under his breath.

Hongjoong continued to fiddle with the weapon, accidentally flicking off the safety and smirking at the way the man panicked.

“Hey! Hey, that’s enough,” the stranger snapped, growing in volume. “Listen, boy—”

“Hongjoong.”

“ _ Listen _ , Hongjoong. I can see that you’ve got a rebellious streak, but I’m going to need you to hand it over.”

“Not until you tell me who you are.”

He wanted to know what business this man had wandering the coastline and fishing a bleeding boy out of the water.

Instead of launching into his life story, the tidal stranger pulled a paper out of his bag.

It was the wanted poster for a notorious pirate, and his face was illustrated on it.

The Dread Pirate Eden.

Hongjoong paled and the weapon slipped through his fingers. This was already more than he bargained for.

“You... You’re a-a—”

“A pirate,” Eden cut him off. “Yes, I am.”

He said it so nonchalantly.

Not only was he a pirate, he was a pirate that dragged Hongjoong out of the shallows and taken him to the lighthouse keeper.

“So why did you save me,” he asked in a near whisper. “That morning after the storm when I washed up with a head wound? You could’ve let me bleed to death.”

In fact, for awhile, Hongjoong had wished he did.

Eden sighed and turned to look up the beach where the incident had taken place. He didn’t seem very dreadful just now.

“... I don’t know.”

So he didn’t deny it.

He had done a very human thing for one who was supposed to be a filthy reprobate.

Careful to keep his distance, Hongjoong handed over the gun. The shop vendor’s offer was far from his mind now that he knew a real pirate.

Of course, the man snatched it and turned to walk away, probably for the last time.

“You were holding it wrong anyway,” Eden threw over his shoulder, unable to resist the temptation.

That sounded like a challenge, and Hongjoong didn’t know why, but he felt the need to accept it.

He sprinted in front of the man on a whim and blocked his path, pointing at the weapon where it was holstered. “Teach me!”

Eden narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“I promise I won’t tell!” Hongjoong pleaded, suddenly looking younger than he had at the beginning of the conversation.

Eden scoffed and took a step back. “You have no use for a weapon.”

“That’s not true! What if there’s an emergency?” Hongjoong skipped alongside him while Eden resumed walking. “What if there’s a scarier pirate who shows up here one day?”

Appealing to his newly discovered humanity was the best trick Hongjoong had up his sleeve.

“What, you don’t think I’m scary?” Eden scoffed, trying to move on. He should honestly just stop talking to the boy, but again he couldn’t resist snapping back.

“No, not really.” Hongjoong laughed, but without any trace of a lie in his eyes.

That brought Eden to a stop.

“Well, I’ve killed people, so you ought to be frightened,” he said sternly, hoping to shake the child off.

“Please,” Hongjoong begged, grabbing his arm and pulling it. “Please teach me how to use it. I’ll be careful.”

Eden should have pushed the boy away and removed himself. He should have vowed never to see him again.

But he looked between Hongjoong and the gun and had to admit he was right.

It may come in handy. And if he taught him all the proper safety measures...

“Are you sure you feel safe about all this?” Eden asked, not breaking face for even a moment.

“Of course!” Hongjoong insisted. “This is the safest I could possibly be, you’re teaching me self-defense.”

“I’ve blown up towns, what’s to stop me from killing you? I mean, are you really willing to trust me that easily?” Eden pulled away and crossed his arms. It was a question Hongjoong already seemed to have the answer for.

“You wouldn’t hurt me, you saved my life,” he reminded him calmly. “I can see it in your eyes and I’ve been told I’m a pretty good judge of character. Besides, think of it this way. I could reveal you as a pirate and get you executed. But I won’t. And you could kill me, an innocent bystander, for discovering your secret. But you won’t. So now we have leverage over each other, don’t we?”

Eden stared at him a moment longer.

He was really being unravelled by a thirteen year old.

“You are one troublesome hothead, I hope you know that.”

A slow smile spread on the boy’s face. For all intents and purposes, that was a yes. He finally had something to look forward to. And— dare he say it— a new brother he could rely on.

“Same time and place tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just by way of reminder, from this point on the chapters go hand in hand with Mingi’s spinoff, The Windy Road, because they happen more or less simultaneously and act as a prequel to the entire series. You don’t need to read both to understand either of them, but it certainly helps. Thanks for reading and don’t forget to comment <3

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to My Way!! It’s going to be a little (lot) hectic and sorry for such a sad first chapter but hopefully you’ll stick around :) Hmu on twt @tiny_tokki if u wanna chat!


End file.
